


Waiting for the Hint of a Spark

by cold_feets



Category: Being Human
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_feets/pseuds/cold_feets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is just the three of them--a different three now--and George aches with the loss that is not eased by having Nina soft and solid beside him once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for the Hint of a Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 2.8.

They find a house in the middle of nowhere, and they never answer the door or the phone. They shuffle from room to room in near silence for two days, jittery and tense, jumping at each snapped twig in the woods out back, imagining car tires on the gravel out front.

They barely dare to breathe.

It is just the three of them--a different three now--and George aches with the loss that is not eased by having Nina soft and solid beside him once again. There is a stillness now that was never there before, and sometimes George sits in an empty room and waits for her to pop up in front of him and scare the shit out of him, but she never does.

Mitchell comes to George and Nina's room the second night, pale and shaky, and paces for a solid minute before telling them simply, "I fed."

There is more to it. But this is the immediate threat of the moment: Mitchell craving blood again after forty years without. The rest can wait, and it will have to because the second George thinks too long about Mitchell feeding and how that means _killing_ and who knows what else, the room starts to spin and George starts to feel sick.

"That day. When Annie and I left..." George says, and it all makes sense. Mitchell nods. He can't look George in the eye.

"What do you need?" Nina asks, her medical training an instinct that even the madness of the past few months could not dull. She slips her hand into his and offers a small but encouraging smile.

Mitchell looks down at her hand in his and blinks at it for a moment before pulling himself free. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his coat, shoulders hunched high.

"Just don't let me leave for a while," he says, and he disappears down the hall. The sound of his door slamming echoes through the whole house.

Nina is focused and angry in a way that Mitchell and George don't have the energy to be. She pulls countless books from the library, scours every newspaper she can find in town, like finding Lucy, exacting revenge will erase it all and set everything right again, like an explanation that makes it all make sense is something she can hold in her hand, can circle in red pen, can underline and point at and say, "See? This is it. The answer is right here."

Days pass, one bleeding into the next, and George can't even figure out what the question is.


End file.
